Morning, evening, noon and night,
evil walks within our sight.
With winged hate and hollow eyes,
it walks on earth and soars thru skies.

Awake, asleep, somewhere in between,
a watchful eye perceices all unseen.
Sword held high, platinum armor glinting,
staunchly held against the pox evil brings.

The clash begins, our hero stumbles,
his high minded ideals humbled.
His sword has dropped, he falls to one knee,
evil looks one with unbounded glee.

Yet out hero has only faltered, not fallen,
evil sees our hero’s resolve, crestfallen.
Sword raised and chin held high,
the hero rushes in, his destiny nigh.

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